


Storm's Brewing

by amorremanet



Series: Skeptical and Steadfast. [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Angel Meg Masters, Angels, Biblical References, Demon Castiel, Demonic Possession, Ficlet, Gen, Other, Vessels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She drops a hand to her side, into her vessel's black overcoat. She tightens the fingers around the hilt of her sword but doesn't unsheathe it yet. They're in a back-alley, off an uncrowded street, but there's always the chance that someone might come and find them.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm's Brewing

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://amorremanet.tumblr.com/post/44684158753/hawkandhandsaw-az-supernatural-au-meg-is-the) graphic by tumblr user, hawkandhandsaw-az, and the 30 days of drabbles prompt, "accusation."

Even after so long—centuries upon centuries, bleeding into millennia—his name rolls off Megadriel's vessel's tongue as though it belongs there: "Hello, Belial."

"Haven't you heard the news, Megs?" He smirks, tucks a lock of nearly shoulder-length hair brown behind his host's ear. "I haven't called myself Belial for ages now—it's Cas, these days. You can call me _Cas_."

She drops a hand to her side, into her vessel's black overcoat. She tightens the fingers around the hilt of her sword but doesn't unsheathe it yet. They're in a back-alley, off an uncrowded street, but there's always the chance that someone might come and find them.

"You'll always be Belial to me, I'm afraid. That name suits you better than Cas, anyway—not least because Cassidy is your _host's_ name, not yours. Besides, Azazel and your mother chose it for a reason."

His voice is sticky, slow and insidious, dripping past his vessel's lips like oil and honey. "That's your opinion," he says. "And it's wrong. The only reason anyone ever named me _Belial_ is because my mother thought I was a curse—"

"And was she wrong?" Megadriel arches an eyebrow, runs her thumb up and down the smooth metal, more to soothe her own nerves than anything. "Have you ever been anything but a curse and a bringer of curses, _Belial_?"

It's been ages since they last saw each other, since that awful incident in Gethsemane, when Megadriel took temporary possession of a certain Judas Iscariot and forced him into betraying his beloved teacher, when Belial possessed Mary Magdalene for no reason other than to manifest himself and talk to Megadriel.

And still, there's the same feeling that she remembers—hate and rage and anger radiating off of him, chilling the room around them enough that, in the back of Megadriel's mind, Delia Masters has some strong words for her angel about needing a damned sweater. Which just gets worse as Belial saunters closer to them, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

By contrast, Belial's host looks perfectly content with the demon's effect on the temperature—but, then again, that could very easily just be Belial's true face coming through on this young man from Pontiac, Illinois. Past all the pretense of his current facade, Megadriel can see the map of pale scars and thorns that make up Belial's true face, the lingering marks of Lilith's handiwork, the whole story of how she took one of the Nephilim and beat him, broke him, carved him up, and reset him into a demon.

But on the outside, he's some well-dressed young man with long hair and cheekbones that could cut diamonds, stormy blue eyes and just a hint of stubble. It suits him, in a way. Before his fall, Lucifer was the most beautiful of all the angels.

Belial curls Cassidy Novak's lips up into a a smoke-like smirk, no doubt knowing that his host should be an angel's vessel, not some demon's victim—and when he flashes his teeth, Megadriel draws her sword.

"So, I heard you cloud-hopping spider monkeys are in the business of raising thieves from Hell?" he says—and it's all Megadriel can do to keep herself from nodding. Of course the story of how Anael and Uriel raised Bela Talbot has made its way through the demons' grapevine.

Belial tuts, and shakes his head. "You know, I would've thought that you'd all have better taste in would-be saviors. I mean, I understand the whole, 'pray for the poor sinners' angle that you're trying to take, but… Bela Talbot? _Really_ , Megs? She's great and all—but I'm a demon saying that. It's almost looking like your bosses _want_ my Father to walk the earth."

"Lucifer will not rise, Belial," she tells him. Tries to mask the waver in her voice with how fiercely she snaps. Holds out her blade to keep him from moving any closer. "Whatever work you and Lilith and Ruby are doing, it won't amount to anything for you. The armies of Heaven would never allow that to happen. Bela Talbot will stop it."

" _Ruby_?" He drags his thumb across his lower lip and laughs like a slap to the face. "Look, Megs, I have no idea what she's playing at with Ava Wilson—but I do know this much: she's Hell's public enemy number one right now. A demon trying to stop Lucifer's rising? It's a travesty, I tell you. The scandal of the season. I heard tell that Lilith's even got Alastair on the look-out for Little Miss Ruby. Your Father only knows what she'll have him do to the poor traitorous snake."

"You say that as though all of your kind isn't made up of traitorous snakes." Megadriel doesn't mean to hiss, but as Belial leans in closer to her, as he deftly avoids her blade, her voice drops, seemingly of its own volition. "Consider it a kindness that I'm even giving you a warning, Belial: follow Ruby's example and repent, and there may yet be hope for you. Continue down the path you're on, and you will know only disaster. And either way? Keep your claws away from Bela Talbot. She has me and Anael behind her, and we don't ask twice."

Belial snickers and shakes his host's head. "It's so cute how you keep trying to save me," he says. "I mean, really, Megs. It's adorable. I'm really touched."

She narrows her eyes. "Your salvation is no laughing matter. And I only keep trying because I remember who you were, because I hold out hope that you might still see the error in trusting my brother with your wellbeing. Lucifer cares only for himself, and he will destroy you, given half a chance."

"You know what I think of your whole salvation shtick?" He grins again, showing off every perfectly white tooth, smile gleaming like the edge of a knife. "I think you ought to know better—and that you should really know… I didn't choose Cassidy Novak. Cassidy Novak chose _me_."

Megadriel shakes her head. Delia's blonde hair threatens to escape the bun she's tucked it into. "That makes no sense. Hosts don't choose their demons—you take them from their homes and you twist them. You break them until they're unrecognizable."

"He found a ritual and he summoned me, Angel—does that make sense to you now? Seems he wasn't exactly pleased that your kind let sweet little Camael take over his brother, not when poor Jimmy had a poor little family to look after…" Belial clicks his host's tongue, leans in so close that Megadriel could choke on the sulfur stench reeking off of him. "Cassidy called on me, and who was I to turn down such a willing host?"

"That's a lie, and an irrelevant one." She huffs, rustles her wings, prepares to transition into intangibility. "Think about what I've said tonight, Belial. Think about yourself and your own survival before blindly swearing allegiance to Lucifer. You've always been exceptionally good at that."

She's gone before he gets the chance to answer, and she flies around the world three times before touching down in an empty street, somewhere in Ohio. At that, Megadriel only lands because Anael calls her name. Her captain has news for her—news about their Fallen sisters.


End file.
